


fragile hearts tend to break

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dalish Elves, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, In a way??, Minor Character Death, Retrospective, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23067127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Our Grey Warden deals with the death of their friend, and how it transpired.





	fragile hearts tend to break

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago and never really felt like posting it until now. It isn't my best piece of work but it helped me grow my writing. Enjoy!

Who knew that within minutes he’d die and my life would change forever. Who knew that I would become a Grey Warden and kill his master. Who knew that he wouldn’t die by the mirror, but that he’d die by my hand.

Curiosity was his killer, I should’ve known better. When we were children questions would spew from his mouth like he couldn’t hold back any longer. He’d drag me into the woods when news of the Shemlen circulated throughout our camp, we’d follow them and watch them, becoming their shadows until dusk called us back to camp.

Sometimes I can’t sleep with the guilt, knowing I could have coerced him back to camp. I could have kept him from the mirror, but I didn’t, the thought makes my heart clench painfully. I haven’t recovered from seeing him in that form, nor do I think I ever will. I haven’t recovered from having to kill him, slicing into his flesh with my blades, plunging a dagger into his heart. I haven’t forgiven myself.

My companions were all equally worried, they noticed my restless sleep, my waning appetite. My complexion grew pale, my sword swings weaker and my footsteps heavier. I was falling into a pit of depression and even Alistair’s bad jokes couldn’t save me, nor could Wynne’s mothering. 

I still showed my companions kindness, which they returned. Some things make me smile on our journey, such as Zevran’s flirtation attempts, Leliana’s wonderful stories, Alistair and Morrigan’s bickering, Sten’s fascination of baked goods, Wynne’s motherly attention toward Alistair and Oghren’s drunken stupors. And let’s not forget Shale, her sarcasm could cheer up any blight.

The thing I enjoyed most about my travels was helping people, it almost makes up for Tamlen’s death, only it doesn’t quite fill the gaping hole in my heart. It hurt to hear of people losing their loved ones, but made me feel less alone. I met Shemlen, Mages and Dwarves who totally changed my views of the outside world. Society is beautiful even in it’s simplest form.

I learned not to let his death hinder my task, the blight comes first. However, while I didn't let my grief steal away the importance of ridding Ferelden of the blight, I ignored my grief and let it turn into something ugly, twisted and deformed. It felt like a tumour on my heart, but while it didn't hurt my health, it stole away my energy to love things. I even forgot my love for Tamlen. I could only concentrate on his death, mainly who killed him and turned him into a monster; me.

As a Grey Warden, I was aware of my duty, but I also felt obligated of another duty; ridding the world of me. As far as I could tell, my fellow companions were unaware to my plotting, and yes, I was planning to kill myself. After the blight I would have an 'accident', maybe hire the Crows to do away with me. But I was overjoyed when an opportunity presented itself, I could stop my plotting. It was perfect, I would die, but while doing my duty as Grey Warden.

Alistair, of course, called me crazy when I told him; he wanted to do it, wanted to save me. I laughed when he told me this, and my heart stuttered when he took on this heart-broken puppy dog look, but I still wouldn't let him do it. He was King, and while that would make a heroic tale, Ferelden would be left without a ruler as he ruled alone. I told him it was out of the question and he called me stubborn. 

The time came and I struck the last blow. It's hard to describe how I felt. I felt proud, relieved and strangely sad. 

However, when I opened my eyes I wasn't in the beyond, no, I was being held, more like suffocated by Alistair. I wheezed, seeking air, and he pulled back. His tears could fill a lake, he was sobbing like a mad fool, repeating the same words over and over: thank the Maker. It was surreal because I should've been dead, in the beyond, on the way to the Creator. 

When Alistair calmed down I noticed my other companions crowding around with happy tears and smiles on their faces. All I could think was; why are they so damn happy? and how am I still alive? 

I asked them afterwards, during the festivities, they spoke of love and friendship, two things I had forgotten. I realised then, that even though I was trapped in my own world, these people saved me. I felt sadness when I killed the archdemon and I believe they're the reason. They made me whole again and I didn't even realise it. And while I still held my death wish, I decided to wait. Wait for newer and better things. 


End file.
